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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28181193">Silk</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luckyfirerabbit/pseuds/Luckyfirerabbit'>Luckyfirerabbit</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Castlevania (Cartoon)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Aftercare, Communication, Established Relationship, F/F, Fingering, Kink Exploration, Lesbian Sex, Light Bondage, Light Praise Kink, Silk Bondage, kink discussion, light domming, non-sexual bondage that becomes sexual, soft gay shit, they're married your honor</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 20:54:44</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,560</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28181193</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luckyfirerabbit/pseuds/Luckyfirerabbit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Morana and Striga are soft with each other and explore bondage.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Morana/Striga (Castlevania)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>34</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Silk</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Striga is anxious, and she knows Morana knows she is. Her wife makes an admirable effort to hide it, but Striga sees the tells all the same. Lingering glances, near invisible stops and starts to words of encouragement, a deliberate softness to what Morana does eventually say, even if it doesn't pertain to her current concerns; Morana wants to comfort her, but knows Striga needs to be able to find her own way in this, her own courage. And Striga is confident that she will, soon, but the stretching time between now and then feels presently insurmountable.</p>
<p>But Morana shoulders the quiet patiently, just as she shoulders Striga's staring without response -because Striga is <em>thinking</em>, not looking for a reaction or a conversation. She is weighing things, using that incredible, keen mind to feel her way through the idea of what they were planning tonight. Morana meets those bright green irises from time to time across the common table of their shared chambers, watches the pupils flux in some half-there acknowledgment, yet she is well aware how distant her lover's attention really is.</p>
<p>They had been talking it out for little more than a week, something they had never tried or considered before, so the trepidation is expected. Understandable. Still, Morana's excited to try, but anxious in her own way as to Striga's willingness to follow through. Her lover is far from timid, but this is hardly a typical matter. Striga hadn't been resistant to the concept by any means; her intrigue had been immediate, albeit hesitant, and she had readily gone along with the little preparations Morana wanted to entertain as they discussed it, so Morana was hopeful.</p>
<p>Perhaps Striga's reservations came from her difficulty in visualizing concepts before they materialize. Maybe it would pass once she has her hands on something real. The idea has Morana shivering a little, her pulse fluttering briefly.</p>
<p>Then she sees that those keen green eyes are focused resolutely on <em>her</em>. "I will need you to guide me." Her voice is smooth, deep, rumbling velvet. "And correct me if you must. No hesitation. If something is wrong, you will tell me."</p>
<p>"Of course. And, naturally, likewise."</p>
<p>Striga nods once, slowly. She hides her surprise very well; sometimes Striga too easily forgets that these things are always about <em>them</em>, nevermind what sort of games they got up to. It was always a collaboration, one that Striga was intrinsically a part of, and so her feelings were just as important as Morana's.</p>
<p>Striga held her wife's comfort and happiness in the highest esteem, but the fact that Morana -much less anyone- did the same for her tended to catch her off guard from time to time. In a good way.</p>
<p>"How do you wish to proceed?"</p>
<p>Morana grins, Striga's formal tone somewhat endearing. "I would...naturally I wish to take it slowly. Perhaps...not regard this as something sexual. Mind you, if it comes to that and we are both agreeable,"</p>
<p>"Of course." Striga nods with a smirk. "But this is, primarily, meant to be something of a...tactile experience for you. A chance to discover something."</p>
<p>"Yes." Morana's smile is full of a soft satisfaction, the comfort of seeing just how well you and your other half fit together.</p>
<p>She's watching Striga again, sees the distance growing in her eyes once more, albeit briefly. When those pitch pupils focus again, the larger vampire stands up and extends her hand. "Shall we begin?"</p>
<p>Striga pulls Morana up from her seat when she takes her much larger hand, kissing the knuckles and drawing her closer still to then kiss her lips. It's a small promise of a thing that makes them both smile, all fangs at each other. Still holding her hand and now with an arm at Morana's waist, Striga turns them and guides Morana towards their bed. Her mind is still struggling gently to rationalize this, to make it make sense to her so she can find a little more confidence, but it doesn't feel so large now that they have begun. Inaction made her anxious as well, it seemed.</p>
<p>It gets easier as they go; standing beside their large bed covered in furs and satins, they begin steadily undressing one another. They whisper and smirk and kiss as clothing tumbles to the floor, Morana taking quiet note of how Striga's hands grow steadier with the gently passing seconds. When those dainty talons go for the knot keeping Striga's trousers up, her much bigger hands take her gently by the wrists and push away.</p>
<p>"I need to focus, and that will not help." Striga chuckles breathily. If she were just as bare as Morana, her hunger for her wife's body would surely overpower her.</p>
<p>Morana feigns a pout, the look laced with an obvious playfulness, and relents.</p>
<p>"I am sensing that separating this endeavor from sex is going to be more difficult than we thought." Striga is now smoothing those big, calloused hands over her shoulders, down those long, toned arms, admiration in her eyes.</p>
<p>Morana shivers, a little hiss of air between her teeth as she savors the sensation of her wife's touch. "I'm beginning to agree. But let us try all the same."</p>
<p>"Of course."</p>
<p>Striga can't stop herself from enjoying Morana for a moment -not that she put in much effort, not really- her hands smoothing along ribs and hips and collar bones. That beautiful brown skin simply could not be ignored, and Striga refused to withhold even little appreciations like this. It's grounding, reassuring, and it has her heart steadily thrumming to almost match Morana's. Morana's pulse is decidedly faster -she's eager, and knowing that gives Striga a little boost to her confidence.</p>
<p>"Sit down." Striga whispers, and gives the smallest encouraging push as she holds Morana by the hips. "Are you ready?"</p>
<p>Morana takes a moment as well, just to enjoy Striga's body with her hands, palming her full breasts and tracing the faint shadows of her abdominal muscles. She does the same to her wife's powerful arms until her hands curl around those hefty forearms. Looking up she grants Striga a serene smile. "I am."</p>
<p>Striga nods and then kneels down to gather up their clothes, telling herself it's all part of the process, that there's a purpose so she can keep her focus. She haphazardly folds them over her arm and drapes them at the foot the bed, only so satisfied but unwilling to be needlessly meticulous about it. Then she takes a few lingering seconds just to look at Morana, to take in her expectant and patient gaze and remind herself that this is for <em>her happiness</em>.</p>
<p>Striga would do anything for that, for her good lady's satisfaction. Anything at all. So she can most certainly do this.</p>
<p>There is a neatly folded silken sash on the bedside table, one that Striga seems to stare holes into as she goes to fetch it. She absently thinks Morana would appreciate the flat humor if she were to articulate her current thoughts about this, how she has never been able to wrap her head around the idea of being bound as <em>enjoyable</em>. Her own experience with such things is neutral at best and traumatic at worst, and until Morana had first broached the subject had she never thought restraints could be effectively applied to...softer things. But now she holds the sash in her hands, a broad expanse of silk dyed rich scarlet that seemed to stretch on and on and coil abundantly on the floor at her feet, and finds herself increasingly curious.</p>
<p>Those bright, inquisitive eyes flit to meet her lover's. "How should I do this? Do you have a particular...way in mind?" What does one even call it? Somehow asking plainly <em>how do you want to be tied up</em> just feels vulgar.</p>
<p>Morana leans back on her palms, thighs habitually crossing as if this was any other meeting and not her naked on a bed. "I have a few thoughts, yes. Though you are more than welcome to experiment, should you have your own ideas."</p>
<p>"Not at present." Striga lilts her head, looking down at the sash in her hands again. "So you must tell me what you want, my love."</p>
<p>The smile Morana cuts is soft and open and trusting, and she reaches out, beckoning for Striga to come closer.</p>
<p>Striga thinks to settle in behind her, wishing to hold her -which isn't surprising, she <em>always</em> wants to hold Morana- but stops herself; that wouldn't be very conducive to what they were doing, not the first time, so she kneels before Morana instead. Striga is still more than tall enough to reach her, getting closer after encouraging Morana's thighs apart with a smirk and a raised, suggestive brow that makes her wife laugh. Her brow knits tight, studious, as she follows Morana's gentle direction.</p>
<p>Striga keeps the silk flat and straight, sliding it between her fingers as she adorns Morana with it, making sure it keeps its shape and doesn't kink up or twist until it needed to. She begins with stretching it across Morana's chest, just below the cut of her collar bones, and around her upper arms to cross over her shoulder blades in the back. That alone turns Morana's expression to one of languid, delighted submission, her frame sinking with a comfortable exhale as Striga pulls the ends of the sash back around to the front and draws the silk a little tighter.</p>
<p>"Are you all right?" There is no alarm in Striga's voice, but the question isn't flawlessly steady either.</p>
<p>"Yes, love, quite all right. Do continue."</p>
<p>Striga takes a settling breath and nods. She crosses the ends of the sash over themselves and pulls gently, the fabric coming together just beneath Morana's breasts. Striga sees her wife grinning, looking down. "Would you prefer I cover them?"</p>
<p>"Would <em>you</em>?"</p>
<p>"That's not what I asked."</p>
<p>"Leave me bare, then, if it pleases you. I like the way you look at me."</p>
<p>Striga hums and nods, then continues.</p>
<p>"I trust you." Morana adds easily, sensing Striga needed to hear it yet unknowing just how right she is.</p>
<p>Morana doesn't have to give Striga much in the way of guidance, and a part of her had considered as much already. She knows Striga is brilliant, her mind quick and adaptive, so it's no great surprise as she continues wrapping Morana up like a gift with only the most brief of pauses -just a moment here and there to consider the logistics of where the silk should be. Morana only needs to speak up three times; once to mention that she doesn't wish to be bound any lower than her waist, again to show Striga how she wishes her arms to be bound -crossed over her stomach in a way that makes her appear to hug herself-, and a third as Striga finishes to simply say "<em>tighter</em>".</p>
<p>Striga notes how she ties off the sash in what she believes to be the prettiest bow she has ever tied in her life before she stands and studies her finished work. Stunning brown skin broken up by bars of shimmering scarlet, tiny ribs of tension pulled into the fabric that has her wife gently shifting as if to settle deeper into whatever sensations she was discovering like this, and the quiet but complete expression of contentment on Morana's face, are all more than enough to make Striga's thrumming heart clench.</p>
<p>"Are you all right?" she asks again, because she needs to know.</p>
<p>Morana doesn't answer right away, those brilliant blue eyes closed so she can savor this more fully. When she opens them again the pitch pupils are wide, her eyes seemingly glazed as a symptom of the still steadily climbing heat in her body. "I am." she says at last, the tiniest tremor hidden in the natural rasp of her voice.</p>
<p>"How does it feel?"</p>
<p>"Perfect." it's the only word that comes close that she has the clarity to grasp.</p>
<p>"You're sure? You look as if you might faint." Her wife's skin is flushed and she has the slightest sway in her movements, things a human might miss but not a vampire.</p>
<p>"Because it feels so good."</p>
<p>Striga takes a moment to let those words sink in; part of her refuses to believe she had done such fine work on the first attempt, as even now she isn't entirely confident that she knew what she was doing. Still, Morana was pleased, and Striga needed to trust that. Once the bewilderment passes, she is aware of her pulse again, and how it has grown to fill her body. Her thighs shift together unconsciously.</p>
<p>"You are a wonder, my darling." Morana exhales slowly. Her whole body is buzzing with heat and something she doesn't have a name for. Something like quenching an ages old thirst, something she feels along every single nerve and stirs a touch a euphoria. "Would you help me lie down?"</p>
<p>"Of course." without hesitation Striga moves to turn down the blankets before gathering Morana carefully into her arms. The skin to skin contact has Morana humming contentedly, nuzzling into Striga's neck and planting quiet kisses there. By the time Striga lays her down, the tangible coolness of the linens around her is a slight shock to Morana's system; she's hypersensitive, and Morana can't recall the last time she had felt this way. But it's <em>good</em> , by god it is so <em>good</em>.</p>
<p>"Blankets?" Striga asks, part of her feeling almost...guilty for breaking the silence, possibly disturbing her wife's enjoyment. But the smile Morana cuts is reassuring that she has yet to misstep.</p>
<p>"No, thank you." Morana's body shimmies slowly, like she's trying to sink deeper as she had before. The tension is sweet and smooth and her body is buzzing with it. "Lay with me?"</p>
<p>Striga merely nods before quickly and quietly rounding the bed, slinking up on all fours to cross the meager distance between them and stretch beside Morana. She props up on one elbow, staying close enough that she can kiss Morana's forehead or touch her at her leisure -should Morana request as much.</p>
<p>"What for us now?"</p>
<p>"I want a chance to...feel this." Morana exhales. "Stay near to me, but don't touch me much just yet."</p>
<p>"As you wish." Striga accepts it with poorly hidden disappointment in her voice, but it's a superficial thing. Her hands itch to touch, as they always do when she hungers for Morana, but waiting a few moments more surely wouldn't hurt her much. Of course, that doesn't make it easier to resist the urge, to reach out only to let her hand hover over Morana's breasts and silk-strapped belly, almost daring to defy her lover's whim.</p>
<p>Morana's lip pull into a smooth, gentle grin. "I can <em>hear</em> you thinking."</p>
<p>Striga quickly pulls her hand back, feeling caught though Morana's eyes remain closed. "Hmm. So what is on my mind then, my genius?"</p>
<p>A little laugh, silken sounding. "I would venture to guess that you're still trying to make sense of this."</p>
<p>Striga lilts her head after a moment, quietly surprised at Morana's accuracy. "Generally speaking, I suppose so. Perhaps if I could, I would be able to find something in it for myself. Aside from pleasing you, of course."</p>
<p>"Understandable. I'll admit," Morana takes a deep breath, breasts rising in a wave, her nerves tingling against the tension. "I feel a bit selfish right now." Because this feels like heaven, tinged with the remorse at apparently having left her lover on earth.</p>
<p>"Then perhaps you could offer me some insight. Help me understand." Striga chances a lingering kiss against her temple, marveling at the sudden hiss and writhing of Morana's reaction. My, oh my, how sensitive she is. "As far as I can tell, I gather this stems from your need for touch?"</p>
<p>"Yes, I believe it does. Perhaps it's obsessive, but most all of this serves a particular purpose."</p>
<p>"You are methodical, not obsessive."</p>
<p>"A fine line to walk, my dear, rest assured."</p>
<p>"In any case, please explain."</p>
<p>Morana swallows heavily, trying to stabilize. Her pulse is pounding through her now, a fire in her core that's making her thighs clench tightly. "It makes me think of you."</p>
<p>Striga can only stare, part of her wishing Morana would open her eyes and look at her; she had expected a myriad of answers, but that hadn't been one of them, and she needed to see the truth of them in her wife's eyes.</p>
<p>"Red has never really been my favorite color, but I chose it because it reminds me of you. I had the sash woven to the breadth of your hands, and being bound this way," she pauses to breathe again, in and out, like a calm sea against the shore, "it's like you're embracing me."</p>
<p>Striga's heart clenches again, stopping completely for several seconds, and then it lulls back into action as she feels her entire being just...soften.</p>
<p>But some curiosity still remains. "But...I am right here."</p>
<p>Her brows quirk. "I hope you don't think I'm trying to <em>replace</em> you, my love."</p>
<p>"N-no," maybe a little. And now that she considers it, she realizes how ridiculous it is. "I just...I don't understand the appeal."</p>
<p>"Well, in all fairness, I have yet to discover as much as well. That's what this is about." Morana sounds like she's admitting to something she isn't all too thrilled about. "Although,"</p>
<p>Striga's pulse jumps when Morana opens her eyes, at last, and the pitch pupils are still blown wide.</p>
<p>"I find myself <em>greatly</em> interested in the idea of your hands being...unoccupied, all the while I still feel as if you are holding me."</p>
<p><em>Ah. So that's it.</em> "Hmm...you make an excellent point. I could touch you at my leisure, at your pleasure, though that is going to make it increasingly difficult to keep this apart from sex."</p>
<p>"I think I'm far beyond such follies at this point." Morana shrugs with a grin, sounding defeated but not at all ashamed. "This feels too good not to explore to that end."</p>
<p>"So you say." Striga chuffs. "Then, perhaps now my good lady would like to be touched?"</p>
<p>"Among other things?" now her eyes are full of hope and hunger. "She certainly would."</p>
<p>Striga's smile is full of things -hunger, fanged eagerness, a certain relief- and it holds for Morana to see and measure as she rises to her hands and knees to gently move over Morana and straddle her hips. For a moment Striga perches there on her knees, looming over Morana, adorning her in shadow and making out the glint of her eyes. She is finding her comfort zone here, feels herself relaxing more completely as the matter becomes more familiar.</p>
<p>"How shall I tend to you?"</p>
<p>"Gently." comes a raspy, fractured reply. Because Morana feels deliciously raw, everything on the cusp of too much, and she needed to tread carefully. "Kiss me."</p>
<p>Striga takes the time to pull her long sable hair around and over one shoulder, expecting it to stay there as she bends at the waist. Most of it tumbles to the bed, curls and tresses splashing against Morana's face and making her flinch with a giggle. Now bracing on one hand Striga reaches for her wife with the other, smoothing the round edges of her knuckles along the line of Morana's jaw with reverence. Morana turns into her touch, kissing at Striga's fingers when they pass close enough to her lips. That hand flattens and drapes across Morana's throat, making the smaller vampire shudder and hiss. Striga makes an inquiring sound and is quickly reassured, nodding before she continues.</p>
<p>With her hand still cuffing Morana's throat, Striga bends down to close the remaining distance and soundly, slowly, kiss her wife. She happily swallows Morana's trembling whimpers, savoring the vibrations of her voice and the jump of her pulse beneath her palm. Next she slips her tongue into Morana's mouth, the gesture welcomed and readily devoured, and Striga grins against her wife's demanding lips at the distinct upward press of her hips against Striga's thighs. Striga feels Morana gently sucking on her tongue and her eyes roll back with a chesty rumble.</p>
<p>It is both too much and not enough to be touched like this, and the dichotomy is maddening. Part of Morana wants nothing more than to be fully enveloped by Striga, in every sense of the word, but another part dangles from a thread above over-stimulation and wants to shy away. It's all thrilling and baffling and oh god does she need <em>something</em> between her legs <em>now</em>. When Striga finally pulls up and away, leaving them both panting, Morana unconsciously chases her, a breath away from nipping Striga's bottom lip had that hand not stopped her. Now that Striga looks down at her, she prays that her wife can see the unashamed, ravenous hunger in her eyes.</p>
<p>"Do you wish for release now, love?" There's a certain urgency to Striga's breaths as well, a sound that she knows Morana notices.</p>
<p>"Yes," Morana strains against the silk, "but not from this binding."</p>
<p>Striga's eyes shimmer with interest, the pupils flexing. "Very well."</p>
<p>Without removing her hand from Morana's neck, Striga braces on her other hand and uses her knees to resolutely push Morana's thighs apart, adjusting to settle in the new space as if she owns it -according to Morana, she <em>does</em>. There she balances briefly, now using that free hand to encourage those smooth, mole-dappled thighs to rest at her waist, letting Striga inch forward for a better angle. Now she sits on her heels and has all the room she needs to roam across Morana's body, now with both hands smoothing along natural lines and the edges of bones and the shadows of tendons raised in delicious tension. She moves steadily, studiously, her heart singing at the soft friction of her hands on Morana's skin, the stimulus broken up by a slip of silk that is a pleasant surprise. Striga takes a delicate nipple into her mouth and draws gently, loving the way Morana shudders and whines and writhes under her. There's a dull, wet pop and an abrupt flick of a tongue before Striga is tending to her other breast in a similar, equally attentive fashion. All the while Morana's hips buck and curl, demanding.</p>
<p>Morana's back arches sharply, some commingling of a grunt and a whine twisting out of her. "Please, I need you inside me. I can't wait any longer."</p>
<p>Striga hums against her breast before releasing it, giving the nipple a little kiss. "You do not wish for my mouth instead?"</p>
<p>"No, your hands." she pants feverishly, her thighs clutching powerfully at her wife's waist. Another strained, keening sound. "I'm <em>begging</em> you."</p>
<p>Striga smiles in brief silence. "You're so pretty when you beg." And, with that being said, Striga realizes how pretty she is like this altogether -vulnerable, almost helpless, willingly at Striga's mercy. There's power in it that Striga hadn't felt at first, but now that she does she finds it...exhilarating? Perhaps there was something for her in this after all.</p>
<p>Striga stretches to all but drape herself over Morana, their hips pressing together and drawing a tight moan from below. Striga tucks close to her wife's neck, kissing upward as one of those powerful hands so gently works to cup the back of Morana's head. Then those thick fingers curl and tug, softly but certainly enough to tip Morana's chin back. Then Striga whispers hotly "I think you should beg a little more." before taking the tender lobe of Morana's ear between her teeth.</p>
<p>Morana trembles. "S-Striga, my love, please," whatever else she may have implored is shattered by the slick workings of the tongue at her ear, twisted into a wanton, open mouthed moan. Sensation crackles through her body, crashes through her clenching core, and she feels her mind threatening to go completely white. "Don't tease me,"</p>
<p>"Oh?" Striga's grin is audible. "And I suppose you mean to force my hands with yours bound as they are? Wouldn't that be a sight?"</p>
<p>There's a jerk of resistance against Striga's hand. "<em>Striga</em>, so help me,"</p>
<p>"If you can't play <em>nicely</em> , then this ends <em>now</em>." Striga cautions softly, seemingly unfazed. "I'll let you tend to yourself and busy myself elsewhere,"</p>
<p>"No, no, please don't," Morana's tone is completely different now. "But I <em>need you</em>."</p>
<p>"I know." Striga purrs at the admission and moves her lips to kiss the round bend of her cheekbone. Then she lifts a little, moves to look Morana in the eye, the hand in her hair relaxing, now cradling instead of controlling. "You trust me, don't you?"</p>
<p>"Always." She mewls, a frail sounding thing.</p>
<p>"Then trust me, my wife. I will provide."</p>
<p>Assurance and comfort weeps from those words, but it does nothing to soften the burning, wrenching hunger Morana feels down to her very bones. She nods and submits, unable to form words, the notion rendered useless in the end by a deep and tender kiss. Then Striga is holding her gaze again as she settles onto her side, bracing on her elbow. They both watch with rapt attention as Striga's large, pale hand eases across Morana's body, immediately drawing a desperate sound that Morana tries to cut off by taking her lip between her teeth.</p>
<p>"Does my touch truly excite you so?"</p>
<p>Morana nods quickly.</p>
<p>"Say it aloud."</p>
<p>"<em>Yes</em>."</p>
<p>Striga hums, satisfied for the moment, now fixating on the soft give of Morana's breast under her hand. She rolls the taught nipple beneath her thumb, making Morana jump and making her own grin cut wider. Morana continues to writhe under her hand as it eases lower, fanning across her fluttering belly where her fingers hook, dragging hard enough to form blushing stripes. Morana's keening cry echoes through the room and in Striga's mind where she means to keep it forever.</p>
<p>Striga walks her fingers from one of her wife's hips to the other, playful and curious of her reaction, which is a hard, upward pitch and a growling curse. Laughing she cups Morana's hip and jerks her closer, somewhat catching Morana off guard and snuffing her frustration in the moment. Now that hand is questing along her thigh.</p>
<p>"<em>Please</em> ," Morana groans. " <em>Striga</em>,"</p>
<p>"Hm?"</p>
<p>"I cannot take any more!" she sobs, her head turning tightly against the pillow, eyes screwed shut against the scalding sparks across her nerves. She doesn't see her lover nodding in acknowledgment, but feels that broad palm settling against her sex well enough. When her hips reflexively jump against the sensation, that strong hand resists and keeps her still. Two of those thick fingers dip passed her dewy folds and Morana's thighs clench at Striga's wrist.</p>
<p>"You are so <em>wet</em>." Striga's voice is an awe laced rumble. "My god, I should tie you up more often."</p>
<p>The prospect sounds both wonderful and terrible; wonderful because this feels incredible, terrible because now she realizes how badly she wishes to touch Striga and can't -be it due to the silk or her own pride at following through. "It's you," Morana manages to say through a tight jaw, the silk about her body pulling ribs at her resistance. "It's always you."</p>
<p>"Oh? Is that so?" A single digit teases Morana's entrance, the muscles fluttering in response, trying to draw her touch deeper.</p>
<p>Morana nods, whimpers. "You are the finest lover I've ever had."</p>
<p>Striga feels her heart clench, her pulse spike, and that pressure surges between her legs. Her whole body vibrates with a low rumble, her heart and soul savoring those words, and she presses in to the hilt in gratitude. When Morana's body bows and her mouth opens to release a fractured cry, Striga pounces to swallow it, and any other sounds that follow as her hand stirs into a steady, <em>deep</em> stroking. Morana's thighs keep clenching, restricting Striga's range of movement until she traps one between her own -not just to help keep Morana still but to put a little friction to her now aching sex. It's just enough.</p>
<p>Morana climaxes suddenly, loudly, biting down on her wife's lip as the muscles of her core clench and shudder. She tastes blood, her head spinning at the shock of copper in her mouth, but helpless to do anything but mewl at the taste. Striga's hand continues its work unimpeded, drawing the fire out of her again.</p>
<p>"I will only stop when you wish it." Striga declares roughly, both of their lips stained and smeared with crimson streaks. Then her fingers plunge somehow deeper, curling sharply as the heel of her palm presses against Morana's clit.</p>
<p>That wish comes in broken words and mixed linguistics, Morana thoroughly spent, body and mind feeling little more real than vapor. She keeps trying to speak, not actually having any words to offer but trying all the same, her lips trembling and unsteady until Striga softly shushes her. Words that Morana may or may not remember buzz through her, steadying her frayed mind, and gentle, steady hands ground her raw body as they carefully begin unwinding the silk. She can feel the blood shifting in her veins, tension easing and allowing unobstructed circulation anew. There's a touch of dizziness, a brief euphoria, and then gravity sinks back in and she feels present again.</p>
<p>"Can you sit up?"</p>
<p>Morana hums an answer, her sweat dappled face scrunching as she tries to move and finds it difficult. One broad hand fans across her back from underneath, carefully pulling to aid her slow ascent, and a shoulder is waiting to catch her when she cannot catch herself.</p>
<p>Striga takes her time, smoothing her hands over Morana's body and massaging her now freed limbs. All the while she kisses and whispers to her - "Are you all right? Do you need anything? Was it too much?" - none of which Morana is capable of answering at present. She knows there are sounds around her, the deep lull of her wife's voice it must be, but that is the extent of her clarity.</p>
<p>Carefully, so carefully, Striga negotiates them against the pillows, pulling Morana to sit between her legs and lay against her chest where Striga continues to stroke her skin and kiss and nuzzle. That eventually settles further down into Striga simply holding her, letting her finally be something resembling still.</p>
<p>Morana thinks she dozed off, unsure when or for how long, but when her eyes open she feels significantly more together, though still rather hazy. "That was incredible." she speaks without really thinking, partly uncertain if she had actually said anything at all. Striga answers with a hum, a soft vibration that she chases, turning in her wife's arms until she could rest her head on Striga's chest.</p>
<p>"I had worried I pushed you too far." Striga's voice is laced with concern. "You're certain you are all right?"</p>
<p>"I will be, yes." Morana tips back her head and tries to kiss her throat. "That was quite the discovery, wasn't it?"</p>
<p>"It was. I must say, you were in rare form."</p>
<p>"As were you." Morana sounds amused, kissing Striga's throat again as she finds one of her hands to hold in both of her own. "The general was really letting her colors fly."</p>
<p>"That was nothing...but I will admit it is a rather...intriguing concept."</p>
<p>"Intriguing?" Morana chuckles weakly. "Is that all?"</p>
<p>"For the moment." Striga tucks her chin and kisses the top of Morana's head, threads their fingers together. "I'm hesitant to bring that side of my life into our bed. I am your wife," another kiss, "not your superior." And she had a hunger for power and control that seemed to be the course for vampires, and she did not wish for that to taint this.</p>
<p>"Hmm, understandable." she concedes. "Perhaps something else we could explore another night?"</p>
<p>"I will consider it." and by the particular tone of her voice and the delivery, she means for the discussion to end there. So it does. She lets them have a silent moment, contemplating little more than the weight of Morana's hands around hers. "Did you mean it?"</p>
<p>"Mean what, love?"</p>
<p>"...You said I was your finest lover."</p>
<p>Morana smiles to herself, hearing the change in Striga's pulse beneath her ear. "Of course I meant it. It's true."</p>
<p>"Good."</p>
<p>"Perhaps you would like to hear more? As I have a great many praises to offer you for tonight," there's more to the offer than just the words, and she knows Striga is aware of it.</p>
<p>"Another time. For now you will rest and allow me to hold you." Striga exhales slow and easy. "And give me a kiss if it pleases you."</p>
<p>"Always, my love. Always."</p>
<p> </p>
<p><span class="u"> Author's Note: </span> Short, sweet, indulgent and fun, that's all I really wanted out of this. I'm still getting over a close call with Crohn's so my head isn't entirely together just yet, but this idea was hounding me until I did something with it. It's definitely not perfect, but it's fun. Just a little piece to tide you all over while I -slowly but surely- get Shatranj going again. Take care everyone, and please leave a comment or some feedback, it keeps me going.</p>
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